Chapter Six - The Slave's Life
Tranith Argan: Book 3
The travelers have been captured by the saarks and are taken to the mines as slaves.
Felanar awoke in a dark cave. He groaned at the memory, for it was the same dark cave in which he had gone to sleep the night before. The same dark cave they had been taken to by the saarks after their capture. For a day they had been forcibly led to the base of the Red Mountains, and then were made to climb a mountain path to a cave entrance. Following that path down, they had passed numerous caverns and carved out rooms, mostly dark and deserted, until they had arrived at the cave. That had been the previous day, and since then they had heard nothing from their captors, nor seen anything other than this cave.
Felanar sat up and heard the chains bound to his legs rattle. The chains were anchored to the wall. The other five people from his group were similarly chained, and there were other chains hanging from the wall. This was evidently a waiting area for new arrivals into the saark system, and they were to wait here until some decision was made about their fate.
Felanar looked down and saw a container of liquid. He didn’t have to taste it to know what it was: grank. He had drunk enough of that when he had been a prisoner on the saark ship. A very nasty taste and burning sensation, he remembered, yet it did sustain. It was better than dying, but not by much. He looked up at the torches that shed flickering light on the dusty floor of the cavern. A path continued beyond this spot down into the bowels of the mountain, but where it led was unknown to him.
Alessa was chained to his left, with Kara and Dolen beyond her. To his right lay Grel and his boy Dral. They were still asleep. He wondered what time it was, and if it was even daylight in the outside world.
“Are you hurt?” asked Alessa.
Felanar turned and said, “No, I am well. Tired though. What about you? That blow from the saark was hard.”
“It was hard,” she said with a frown, “harder than I expected, but he has not harmed me. I would like to strike him back though, if I got the chance.”
“You will have to wait your turn, I think,” he said, and Dolen nodded.
“What are they going to do with us?” asked Kara. “Slaves in their mines, as Grel said? Do you think they have any idea who we are?”
“I suspect not,” said Felanar. “They probably think we are just regular men of the area, though Alessa certainly made them jump in surprise. I have no idea what they think her presence means.”
“They probably haven’t the wit to perceive our nature fully,” said Alessa with disgust.
“That would be for the best, I think,” said Felanar.
“What is that?” asked Kara, pointing at the bottle of liquid.
“It’s grank,” said Felanar. “It’s what they drink. I know because they gave me some on their ship. It’s got a horrible taste, but it does give you strength, so I suppose it serves its purpose. You should drink some, we all should, but you won’t like it.”
“I should say not,” said Kara, as she held the bottle to her nose and grimaced. “I cannot believe it was just two weeks ago I was complaining about the food and drink at the palace being too fancy. I would gladly accept all the rich sauces our cooks could come up with if it meant we were back home. Grank! Ugh! What was I thinking?”
“We will get ourselves home, sister, I promise you that. I do not know how, but we will find a way.”
“I for one,” started Alessa, “have no intention of spending my life as a saark slave. I agree with Felanar, we will find a way.”
“Then you are more skilled than I am,” said the now awake Grel, “for it is rare for any of my village to return once they are captured. The few that make it out alive are broken and worthless for work. Probably why they are let go by the saarks. That’s our future, not escape.” He looked very downhearted.
“Why would the saarks not kill your fellow villagers, rather than let them go once they are no longer of use?” asked Alessa. “Death is their way, is it not?”
Grel shook his head. “They are not mindless animals, elf lady. They capture us for work, but they are not without honor.”
“You speak well of those who have captured you and your son?” cried Alessa.
Grel looked at Alessa sadly but said nothing.
Footsteps were heard in the distance, growing louder as they approached. Guards were coming. They peered through the dim light down the walkway and soon saw a group of saark guards marching toward them. They were all dressed in more ornate armor than the previous band. Whatever the social or military structure of saark life, these guards projected authority. Their leader held up his arm to halt the others, and he then moved quickly to the boy, Dral. Pulling a serrated knife about a foot long, he held it up to Dral’s throat. Grel yelled and leaned over to protect his son, but the guard kicked out strongly and sent Grel flying backward in pain. Dral look terrified at the knife pointed at him.
“Move not,” the guard said roughly, “or the boy dies.” He paused to look from prisoner to prisoner, making sure his message was received. “Now, put your arms behind your backs while we tie them. If any of you vermin makes a sudden movement, the boy gets his throat slit.”
The group obeyed while other saark guards approached and tied them together. The bonds were tight.
“Now on your feet, you scum!”
Everyone struggled upright while the guards unlocked their chains from the wall. The prisoners were still bound by the chains, but now they could shuffle down the walkway instead of being locked to the wall. The chief guard tied Dral’s arms and put the knife away.
“March!” he yelled, and the guards led the prisoners down the path. Because of the chains, they all shuffled as they walked, though even here Felanar noticed that Alessa managed to walk with a certain dignity and bearing. He tried to mimic her steps, to modulate his pace to avoid the jerking of the chains, but all he succeeded in doing was slowing himself down enough for the guard behind him to push him forward, causing him to stumble and fall. A guard roughly hauled him to his feet and he shuffled on, while Alessa glided along not making a sound with her chains. Even in this dark hour, Felanar thought how much elves amazed him.
It took a long time to descend the pathway, their way lit by torches held aloft by the first and last guards. They passed other caverns and walkways, but saw no one on their descent. Occasionally they heard the sound of trickling water, or its echoes farther away, but mostly they heard the footsteps and breathing of the saarks, and the clanking chains of the prisoners.
After thirty minutes of walking, the path opened up into a large open room that had been carved out of the earth. Their torches were no longer necessary as this room was filled with torches along each wall. Leading out from the room were numerous pathways on all sides. This appeared to be a junction point for the saarks. The guards and prisoners walked and shuffled through the room and crossed to the far side where they walked through a doorway and along another path. This time they climbed.
Soon they heard noise up ahead, and began to see other saarks along the pathway. These new saarks seemed to be engaged in different tasks and wore uniforms that varied. They paid no attention to the prisoners, evidently being used to such a sight. The pathway continued and they reached another junction room, but in this one were waiting saarks. They were pushed into the center of a room that had benches for sitting and desks behind which sat saarks of authority. They were dressed in plainer outfits than their guards, but the guards showed immediate deference to what were clearly their superiors.
“Report!” barked one of the saarks behind a desk carved out of rock, and on which sat parchment and a writing instrument.
“Six prisoners for the mines, sir,” said the saark leading the band who had taken them captive. “Four men, two women, one child among them.”
“Can’t I see that for myself?” said the superior saark. “Where were they found?”
“North, along the river, west bank.”
The superior saark picked up his instrument and began writing. The sight of this amazed Alessa and Felanar. What was a saark doing writing information down? Administrative duties among these foul creatures? The saark finished writing and handed the parchment to one of the guards to his right. The guard bowed, took it and ran out of this junction room down a corridor.
“You,” said the saark behind the desk, “take the boy to the others.”
As another guard approached Dral, the boy yelled out, “No! Father, help!” He lunged toward his father, but was held tight by a guard. Grel tried to reach his son but was also held back. He could only look on distraught as a guard took Dral’s ropes and literally dragged the terrified boy toward another corridor.
“Please,” begged Grel to the saark behind the desk, “do not harm my boy! I will do as you ask, and work hard for you, but let me keep my boy with me! Please!”
The saark looked at the father dispassionately and said, “I know you will work hard, so do not bargain with this. You offer me nothing. As for your son, he will join others his age and be given work appropriate for his strength. He will not be harmed if he does as he is told. The same with all of you.”
At this point he caught sight of Alessa’s eyes and his own eyes widened. He turned to another saark standing behind him and whispered something to him. They spoke briefly together and then turned back to the prisoners, the same cold dispassionate look in his eyes.
“Take the father and put him with the iron workers. He is from the nearby villages. But as for these other four, they are not from this land, and you guards are fools for not seeing it yourself. Put these four in the cavern above level three.”
“The punishment cave?” asked one of the guard saarks.
“Yes, but do not inflict pain on them just yet,” instructed the head saark. “Keep them there under heavy lock, and see that they are not disturbed. These prisoners are special. If harm comes to any of them, and I mean if a single hair is damaged, you become slaves yourselves! Do you understand me?”
He growled the last at the guard in front of Alessa, and the guard immediately bowed in acknowledgment. The guard then pulled the ropes, though more gently this time, and the four prisoners moved out of the room down a corridor on the far side. Grel was pulled in the opposite direction and was soon out of sight.
The four were led along a path that wound upward through the rock and passed several more junction rooms until they finally reached what was evidently level three, although none of the prisoners could perceive any marking to indicate this. They saw fewer saarks on this level as they walked along a straight path until they came to a series of rooms that had been carved out of the rock on either side of the path. In front of these carved rooms were bars of iron from floor to ceiling. Behind the bars lay other prisoners, the first Felanar had seen. These prisoners wore rags, had pale skin darkened by dirt, and many were hurt or damaged in some way, though from work or “punishment” he couldn’t tell.
They were led to an empty cell on the right side of the path, pushed into the cell, and the door closed behind them. They were behind bars and with no way to escape. The saark guards told each of them to approach the bars and then turn to face the other way. As each did, their bonds were untied from their torso and their arms were freed, and then the chains around their legs were unlocked. The saarks took the rope and chains and walked down the corridor, their heavy footsteps echoing down the pathway for several minutes. Then silence as Felanar, Kara, Alessa, and Dolen looked at their surroundings.